Remember
by rlsa
Summary: After the war, Hermione is unable to find a way to restore her parents' memories, so she enters Cambridge in hopes that a pharmacology degree will allow her to formulate a potion that will work. She's paired with a Parisian student who has the same goals, work ethic and knowledge typically used to brew potions. JKR owns Harry Potter. I'm playing in the sandbox. EWE.
1. Chapter 1

October 1999

"I love you both. Stay safe. I don't want to have to flue to Mungo's on short notice."

"Okay, Mione. We'll keep an extra watch out just for you." Ron leaned in and kissed Hermione on her forehead.

Harry grinned. "We love you too. I'd wish you luck with your studies, but we all know you'll probably have your Bach in 2 years and your PhD in 4." He lowered his voice so only the three of them could hear. "I'm sure you'll have your parents back soon. If anyone can develop a memory restorative potion, it's you." He pulled her into a tight hug.

"Give Ginny my best. I've already got her next game on my calendar."

Ron laughed. "And we all know how much you're looking forward to that game. Bye, Mione. Go kick some pharmacology arse at Cambridge."

Hermione kissed them both and waved goodbye as she boarded the train towards her new school.

After the war, she, Ron and Harry had helped rebuild Hogwarts, showed support for Kingsley as he tried to stabilize the Ministry, and tended to their collective family as they mourned for their friends. Hermione had located her parents in Australia, but was unable to find a spell that could reverse her memory curse. She had then spent a year apprenticing under a potions master, who proved to be a much better teacher than Snape. But after spending half a year working with him on memory potions, she realized that Muggle medicine had eclipsed some of the potions work years earlier, leading her to believe that she needed to combine both Muggle pharmacology with potions. Kingsley was able to secure her admission into Cambridge.

Ron and Harry had gone into Auror training while she was studying potions. Harry and Ginny worked their relationship out during her last year at Hogwarts and now that she had graduated, they were happily dating whenever her Harpies schedule coincided with his Auror schedule.

Midway through the previous winter, she had plopped down on the sofa in the flat she shared with Ron and Harry, still smelling of potion ingredients. Ron was on one of his infrequent evenings off. That sat there in silence for a couple minutes. "Mione," Ron started. "You know I love you, but …"

"Yeah," she sighed. "But, this isn't working out right now. We're both head over heels in work and it doesn't seem like either of us have time for a relationship."

Ron nodded. "You're my best friend." He leaned over, pulling her into a hug and kissed her brow. "You'll always be my best friend."

Hermione had laughed and then sighed again as she leaned into him. "You're mine too. You'll make someone a good partner someday. And next time, I promise not to get jealous."

Ron choked out a laugh. "Just don't send those bloody birds after me again!" He pulled her in closer and they sat there on the sofa the rest of the evening.

The following summer had Hermione picking out a dorm room and helping Ginny move into their flat. Now, Hermione was on the train from Kings Cross to Cambridge.

Just as Ron had predicted, she had most of her first two years done in one, and had entered into a research program for her final undergraduate year. Her undergraduate research was pointed towards brain chemistry and its interactions specifically with drugs for dementia and Parkinson's. Her research adviser was giving Hermione more advanced work than she was giving to her Master's level students, and Hermione was completing the research more quickly. After approving the publication of Hermione's Bachelor's degree thesis, Professor Eleanor Carter pulled her into her office.

"I have a research assistantship lined up for your PhD work. The work specifically involves research into restoring memories in Alzheimer's and dementia patients, and in the regeneration of their neural pathways."

Hermione almost succeeded in keeping the grin off her face.

"We won this project grant joint with the University Pierre and Marie Curie and a student of Professor Henri Rousseau will be conducting this work with you jointly. Professor Rousseau has said that his student is also highly motivated and appears to make the same quick and unusual suggestions of holistic interactions as you do." Professor Carter smiled. "I suggest you take this summer to brush up on your French."

"Thank you, Professor. I can't wait to work on it! I'm sure that we'll make a significant breakthrough."

"I sure you will. The contribution you've made as an undergraduate is more than some do for their doctoral dissertations. I'll look forward to continuing our research this fall."

After commencement, she moved back into her room in the the flat for the summer, which now housed the four of them. Now three years post-war, they found an easy existence that summer, spent between work and visits with friends. And if Ron groused about watching television in French with English subtitles at first, he was soon studying French with her after Ginny brought home a teammate who had matriculated from Beaubatons.


	2. Chapter 2

October 2001

At the start of the Michaelmas term, Hermione was again in her adviser's office being introduced to the new project. The grant was to study the ingredients used in central acetylcholinesterase inhibitors and to try to process or combine them differently to make the drug more effective and longer lasting. Professor Carter gave her the address and password to the project file transfer site and a project email address to use for the study. She would be working in Professor Carter's lab for any actual drug trials.

After finishing her other classes for the day, she sat down in her much improved graduate student dorm, which was significantly more like an flat than the undergraduate dorm. She had even sprung for one with a fireplace and had submitted the application to have it connected to the flue network the previous day. She opened her notebook computer and logged into the project email account. She was surprised to find an email already sitting there from the Parisian student.

Dear Colleague:

I am your counterpart at the UPMC in Paris. Please find attached research I conducted into memory restoring substances and their interactions during my previous studies. I trust that you will find the variety of substances to be quite unconventional, however, I am convinced that under the right conditions, they will prove to be critical to our joint project. I am completely committed to this project for personal reasons and endeavor to produce significant advancements in this field. However, due to these personal reasons, I would prefer if you would concede to communicating only under our initials.

D

P.S. I am fluent in English if that language is preferable for you. I am also fluent in French, German and Italian if English is not your native tongue.

Hermione was stunned. She opened the attached research file. There before her were none other than the potion ingredients that she had been researching over the previous three years mixed among other various Muggle compounds. Not only did it look like there was another student who had conducted professional level research, but it appeared that perhaps that student may be another wizard or witch. If that were the case, it was probably better that D wanted to communicate with initials only. Hermione was rather enjoying her anonymity in the Muggle world and decided that for the time being, it was better to be unknown.

Hermione spent that night cross-referencing her notes with D's thesis noting that D's was somewhat more comprehensive than hers in a few areas. She had a fair number of significant contributions, but it was clear that D had spent more time on cataloging the various properties and preparations of ingredients than she had. Looking through her research notes, she noted that she had more information regarding the processing and timing of ingredient combination.

She copied the ingredient listing into a new file and added her additional research to the document. She was about to add in her private notes about the preparations until she realized how foolish she would seem by including a moon chart if her counterpart were a Muggle. In the end, she saved the new inclusive document to her computer and uploaded an edited version of her Muggle-friendly thesis and decided to see what D had in terms of preparations. Before heading to bed she sent off her own email.

D:

I was most pleased to have received your email and research notes when I first logged onto the project site. I have transferred your research to a new document and added my own notes to your work. I noted that a good amount of your research overlaps with my own, including the use of unconventional ingredients. Also, uploaded to the site is my thesis work, which has a bit more focus on the preparation of the drugs. Please let me know of any additional insight you have. After reviewing our combined notes, I suggest that we each develop a set of hypotheses this weekend, which can be used to generate our list of experiments.

H

P.S. I concur that the use of initials would lead to fewer diversions at this time and therefore agree to your request.


	3. Chapter 3

October 2001

Several weeks later Hermione was in the lab testing her various compounds. She had found D to be every bit as quick and efficient as she was and found that their research goals complemented each other extremely well. Each would make additional improvements in turn on the proposed research scopes until Hermione was back in Professor Carter's office a full week before Samhain obtaining the approval for the final research plan.

Friday afternoon she picked up her ingredients and went back to her apartment to pack for a weekend in London. Ginny was the first to attack her when she stepped out of the flue.

"You're here! The boys were taking bets as to whether you'd actually leave your lab, but I knew you wouldn't be missing this one." She held out her hand and Harry and Ron each tossed her a Sickle.

Hermione laughed and got herself a drink from the fridge. "Yes, I, Hermione Granger, am spending a free weekend with my friends without the need to do work." They all laughed. "Actually," she said, sitting down, "the student from Paris is incredible. He more than does his fair share of work. Occasionally, I feel like it's me who isn't putting her weight."

"So you know he's a boy!" Ginny exclaimed. "Any plans to meet him? Anyone who can keep up with you is definitely someone to consider." She winked.

Hermione laughed. "Actually, he was the one who requested privacy. We only go by our first initial. I just think he's a guy because he was talking about sports and how he had tickets to some rugby game and was looking forward to a night out, seeing as he used to play at his boarding school. Although, honestly," she turned to face Ginny in a conspiratorial whisper, "half the work he's done makes me think he might be a wizard, and I wonder if 'some rugby game' is a euphemism for quidditch."

"No kidding," Ron said, joining in on the conversation. "Eugenie said that she played quidditch at Beaubatons. He can't be that much older than we are. I could ask her if she knows anyone who was on any of her school's teams who's now at a Muggle university."

"I think that now this has gone a bit too far." Hermione shook her head at her friends' efforts. "I think, though, that we've made so much progress that I'll be ready to brew some tests over the solstice. I think that's when it has to be brewed. New beginnings at the darkest part of the year, and then continuing on through maturation at the summer solstice. I'm so close! It's possible I can have my parents back for next Christmas."

"So what makes you think this guy's a wizard? We can probably make some inquiries with the French Ministry if you want," Harry offered.

"No!" Hermione swatted him. "You with your Auror access. You can't just check someone out because you're curious. That's a serious breach of your authority."

Harry laughed. "I know. Just thought I'd offer."

"Anyway, his list of ingredients mimics a lot of mine. And his preparation notes indicate things like 'slice thin with a silver knife,' which sounds a lot like what we learned in potions. He never, though, has said one thing about brewing or cauldrons or stirring a certain number of times in certain directions or under certain conditions like the solstice, which means that it's possible that he's only been concerned about the chemical reactions of the ingredients with the prep tools. Of course, I haven't said anything about brewing instructions either because if he's not a wizard, I'll sound like I've lost my mind. Besides, we've also got to come up with a Muggle drug preparation for the grant."

"With all the work you've put in, I'm sure that you'll have the right potion soon." Ron patted her hand. "Now, I'm pretty sure that it's about time for dinner."


	4. Chapter 4

November 2001

The end of November saw Hermione finishing up the first round of drug trials and studying for her end of term exams. She and D had split up the first round of experiments so they could judge the simple interactions before creating more complex formulations. On Sunday evening of her last week of classes, she decided to see if her co-researcher could upload his results over the coming week. She wanted to be able to study all the trials before she began her brewing over the break. She was pleasantly surprised to find that he had loaded his results earlier that day.

H:

I have uploaded the results from the UPMC trials. I know that your exams are this coming week, but if I could request that you upload the results of your trials as soon as practicable, I will conduct the analysis of all the trials over the holiday. I'm sorry to impose upon you with the timing of your studies, however, I have a personal obligation concerning the results of our trials over the term break and would be much obliged if you could expedite this task.

On a personal note, I wanted to express my deep appreciation for all the preparation and timely work you have made for this project. The considerable progress that was made over this term has shaved a year from my personal project's timeline. I expect that when the Lent term begins, I will have additional information available for our joint project.

D

He had a personal project! And he needed the results before the winter solstice! Hermione mused that he must be a wizard, and if she could meet with him over the break, perhaps they could compare their brewing notes and actually come up with a potion that would work on the first try! She had to know.

D:

I was pleasantly surprised to find that your trial results were already uploaded when I went to upload mine. You see, I too have a personal project brewing over the coming weeks regarding the trial results. I have set a personal deadline of 22 December, so your quick work has also been extremely appreciated. I was wondering what your schedule might be over the holiday and if I might be so bold as to ask if you would like to meet in person to discuss our personal projects. I have nothing on my calendar for the entire break, but as mentioned, I do need to meet my personal deadline.

Thank you for sharing all your work so readily. It has been very nice to work with someone as equals.

H

There! She gave all the hints necessary for him to figure out that she was a witch, but without it being obvious to a Muggle. She checked her email every five minutes for the rest of the evening while finishing some of her organic chemistry revising. She was about to go to bed when she got her response.

H:

I have taken the liberty of booking two fireplace rooms in the Shangri-La Hotel in Paris from 10-24 December. I figure that a fortnight will allow us to attend to our mutual projects. I have also made dinner reservations for 20h on 10 December at La Bauhinia, which is inside the hotel. Both reservations have been made under "H. Cambridge." Let me know if these arrangements are amenable to your schedule. I will take on the task of obtaining all necessary equipment. There are several high-quality stores in a nearby arrondissement.

I look forward to our mutual accomplishments.

D

She had it! He had to be a wizard! Why else would he have mentioned that he booked her a fireplace room? And he had agreed to meet with her. She was certain from all their previous interactions that she would have the right potion mixtures and preparations in order to restore her parents' memories that summer.

She was now too giddy with excitement to sleep, so she flued to the London apartment and stepped out much to GInny and Harry's surprise.

"Oi! Sorry to interrupt."

Harry flushed, but Ginny just laughed. "Um, yeah. We, uh, weren't expecting anyone," Harry stammered out. Ginny just straighten up a bit and got up to make tea, still with a grin on her face.

"Well, obviously it's important. Spit it out, then. I want to hear what made you leave your room at this hour when you would normally have your head stuck in your texts."

Hermione was still blushing. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that, well, D's a wizard! I'm sure of it! I asked if we could meet over break noting that I had something brewing, and then he booked me a fireplace room at some hotel in Paris through the solstice. I am absolutely positive that we're going to have this potion right. I might have my parents back this summer!"

"That's great!" Ginny exclaimed while bringing over the hot tea. "A whole year before you were expecting too. And maybe," she said with a wink, "he'll be hot and you'll have found yourself a boyfriend too."

"Ginny!"

"Seriously, Hermione. From how you gush about his brilliant mind to how he has just as hard of work ethic to his skillfully worded email, you should flirt with him a bit. Tell me your heart doesn't do a little flip every time you see one of his email pop up?"

"Okay, okay. I do. But this is about more than that."

"But this could be about that too. Do you think that he actually finds stimulating people to date over in Paris? If you haven't found anyone at Cambridge that can keep up with you, how many people do you think he's found?"

Hermione sighed. "Okay, so I've thought about it. We'll see what happens. I mean, he could be 40 years old. How many other wizards or witches do you know who have gone to a Muggle university? It's possible that he's only there because he's exhausted every other possibility in the magical world and this is his last resort."

"Or, he could be some hot, young quidditch player. He could be as sexy as Harry, here, with his seeker build."

Harry blushed again. "Um, Ginny, " Hermione replied, "I'd rather not think of Harry as sexy if you don't mind."

Ginny just laughed. "Alright, Hermione. Well, we'll just have to wait and see. I'm so happy for you though! I'm sure that it will work out brilliantly."

Having finished her tea, Hermione kissed both Ginny and Harry. "Tell Ron I'm sorry I missed him. I hope that he and Eugenie are still doing well."

"Oh, they are," Harry broke in. "I'd have never thought there'd be someone so well suited for Ron, but there she is. Loves quidditch and Molly's food and gets along well with all his family. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight." She flued back home to finish her week of exams and dream about possibilities.


	5. Chapter 5

December 2001

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find that the Shangri-La Hotel was on the International Flue Location List. That meant that she could obtain a reservation for an international flue from the Ministry and not have to worry about buying an international portkey. She was shocked, however, when she stepped out of the flue in the hotel at the hotel's opulence. She was a college student! How was she supposed to afford a room in this hotel?! Well, maybe they gave special rates to witches? She made her way to the front desk.

Using the french she had learned over the summer, she addressed the clerk. "Hello. I have a reservation under H. Cambridge, but I am unsure that I will be able to keep it."

The clerk pulled out her reservation. "Yes, I have you prepaid for 13 nights in La Suite Chaillot. Unfortunately, the reservation is non-refundable. Is there something with which our concierge could help you?"

A prepaid non-refundable reservation! "No. Thank you. I believe the reservation will be suitable after all."

"Excellent. The chambermaid will show you to your suite. The concierge can be contacted at this number. Do you have any baggage for the porter?" he asked eyeing her beaded bag and computer satchel.

"No. No baggage. Thank you for your help."

She turned to follow the chambermaid to her room wondering what kind of person bought her 2 weeks at a luxury hotel.

Draco Malfoy walked into the lobby of the Shangri-La Hotel carrying the flowers and champagne he had bought for the evening and immediately noticed a familiar head of bushy hair walking towards the lifts. No! No, it couldn't be her! There was no way that Granger could be his research partner. Could there?

Think, Draco, think! He stood there in the middle of the lobby going through the last three and a half years. He knew she apprenticed with a potions master, but then he hadn't really heard anything more about her in the last two years. But his partner was working on her PhD. Well, leave it to Granger to finish a Bach in two years. Merlin! His partner had Granger's work ethic. His partner had Granger's way of including every piece of information that might be slightly relevant. His partner had every quality he could remember teasing Granger about in school.

What was he going to do? What was he going to do?

He approached the front desk. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Cambridge just checked in. You missed her by a minute."

Ah. Well now there was no denying that Granger was his partner. "Thank you, Mr. Robert. Would you be so kind as to give these to the next couple you see with a celebration?" He handed over his bouquet of red and white roses and the champagne and turned to walk back outside.

He had to get her to agree to work with him this fortnight. He was so close to securing a positive legacy for the Malfoys and it all hinged on the work he had planned through the solstice. What would make Granger want to help him instead of hexing him on sight?

He walked back to the florist. He was a Slytherin. He could formulate a plan to give him a chance. He needed flowers that asked for forgiveness and showed that he admired her. And to maybe throw in some Banksia for new beginnings. Hmmm, what if she doesn't know her flowers. Well, he'd send up some Beaujolais-Nouveau. Can't miss the meaning in that.

Flowers and wine in hand, he walked back to the hotel. What else could he give her that might sway her to work with him. His brewing notes! If he could give her his brewing notes before she could run away, then she'd feel that she had to include him. Her Gryffindor sense of justice would make sure he could get his name on that potion if he contributed to the final product.

He asked the concierge to send the flowers and wine to Granger's suite and then went to his own to prepare a copy of his work.

Hermione's jaw dropped when she entered her suite. This wasn't a hotel suite! It was a veritable apartment! She unpacked her clothes and supplies from her beaded bag, thankful that Ginny had dragged her shopping for new clothes the previous day. Ginny had made her buy not one, but two nice dresses and some fancy heels in case her partner was "young and sexy" enough to date. The black lace one would have to do for this evening's dinner.

And what kind of wizard puts her up for two weeks in a "suite" that probably cost more than the annual rent of their London flat? Well, she was just going to have to be careful and keep her wand on her at all times.

She had just finished unpacking and was about to draw a bath when the chambermaid knocked on her door. "Good evening, miss. These were sent up for you."

Hermione thanked her and took the flower arrangement and bottle of wine. What an odd arrangement of flowers. Purple hyacinth, heather and some fuzzy cattail-like wildflower with which she wasn't familiar. It did make an attractive arrangement. She then looked at the wine. Beaujolais. Of course. For the solstice and the commencement of their joint work. Well, maybe it will work out after all, she thought, stepping into her bath.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione was seated for dinner at five 'til at a mostly private table overlooking the atrium. She chose a pre-dinner glass of champagne instead of a cocktail when asked and tried to steady her nerves while waiting for her partner to show up.

The waiter was just walking away when she caught a head of blond hair out of the corner of her eye. She stood up, drawing her wand, and was about to demand what he thought he was doing there when he hurried over and whispered, "Please sit down, Miss Granger. Please." He added a third "please" when she made no motion to retake her seat.

She slowly sat back down, keeping her wand pointed at him from the edge of the table, just out of the view of the other diners, but well within his line of sight. "Speak, ferret."

"Miss Granger, please just hear me out. I didn't …". He swallowed and tried again. "I didn't realize you were my research partner until I caught a glimpse of you in the lobby. I …" He took a deep breath and swallowed again. "I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, so I would never presume to ask, but I never thought that there would be someone else so focused on creating a brain function and memory restorative potion and I was so impressed to have been matched with someone of your caliber. I have brought my brewing notes as a peace offering. Even if you never want to see me again, you're welcome to use them."

"Sit, Malfoy." She took the proffered notes and glanced through them with one eye, while keeping her wand trained on Malfoy as he sat beside her. He was carefully keeping his open hands in her view at all times. "Why are you researching this?"

He took another deep breath and decided to be honest with her. That's what Gryffindors valued after all, wasn't it? "I wanted to create a potion that would do a lot of good. That could cure something that no one had been able to. Something that would put the Malfoy name back in people's good graces. I wanted to help Longbottom get his parents back."

"Neville?!" Hermione couldn't have looked more shocked. "Neville's parents?"

"Um, yes. The Aurors Longbottom. And all the patients in the Janus Thickey ward." He looked at her with a bit of confusion. "Um, wasn't that your goal?"

Hermione tried to keep the dawning comprehension off her face. She had been so singularly focused on restoring her parents' memories that she hadn't even considered any other application.

Draco, however, with growing horror came up with a different conclusion. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry. I should have done something. I should have … done something, anything, to have distracted my deranged aunt. I should have, done, anything. Anything at all. And I did nothing. I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry."

Hermione quickly caught on. "No, Malfoy. I'm not brewing something for me. Bellatrix didn't cause me to lose any of my memory. Actually, I remember too much of that night during my dreams."

"Me too," he whispered.

Hermione put her wand away and picked up a menu. "Okay, Malfoy. We'll have dinner and talk about the personal projects and then I'll decide what I'm going to do."

Draco visibly relaxed and picked up a menu. The waiter returned with the amuse bouche and they placed their orders, including a bottle of wine that Draco thought would suit.

"I truly am sorry for everything my family and I did over the last ten years. I never should have called you that vulgar term, nor should I have teased you. I was jealous that there was someone smarter than me, when I had been assured by my father that with all my tutors, I would be peerless. That really was an awful way to treat someone. I've been working to ensure that's not how people remember me."

"So, you can dine with mudbloods, now?" Hermione goaded.

Draco winced. "That is yet another example of my father's false teachings. I've gone to a muggle school for the last three years. I hope that is enough to show you that I've moved on."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Okay, so what exactly do you want?" she asked, taking a bite of her meal. "You said something about restoring your good name or something."

"I don't want my legacy to be the boy who let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I want people to remember me for something good."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin, I suppose."

"Well, actually, a Slytherin would have never admitted it out loud. And I only told you because you've earned it."

"Yes, the bushy-haired know-it-all is good for something, isn't she."

"Look, Miss Granger, I said that I was sorry and regretted everything I said to you in school. If you don't want to work together, just let me know and I'll go back home. I'll still work on the potion, but you won't need to say another word to me. You have my notes and are completely welcome to use them. But I had hoped that we would move past the insults that were spoken when we were sixteen."

Now, it was Hermione's turn to look remorseful. "Okay, Malfoy. We'll move along. I'll look over your notes in the morning. We can meet after lunch to start some experimental brewing to test for reactivities and stir counts. You can stop by my room after dinner and I'll make you a copy of my notes."

"Thank you. I look forward to our partnership in this as well as the muggle drug. I assume that you had also determined that the potion needed to be started on the solstice?"

"Yes. That's what my arithmancy calculations showed. And that it needed to mature until the summer solstice."

"That matches mine as well." Draco took a bite of his apple tart and breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that she would work with him after all.


	7. Chapter 7

They spent the next week and a half testing out various combinations and by the 20th, they had developed the recipes for their top three candidates. They both agreed that the top candidate had to be the right one, but thought to brew the other two just in case. After all, it would be another year before they could try another batch. Thankfully, the next time they would need to do some serious additions was at the equinox, which fell between the Lent and Easter terms. Hermione even consented to going to another restaurant dinner on the 23rd. She flued back as planned on the 24th to spend Christmas with Harry and the Weasleys at the Burrow.

Stepping out of the flue in the London flat, she was immediately greeted by Harry. He pulled her into a big hug. "Was it successful?"

"More than I could have imagined. But there's no way I'm telling this story more than once, and it really needs to be heard with firewhiskey, but, well, I'm hungry, so it'll have to be beer with fish and chips. Where are the other two?"

"Brilliant! Ron got off thirty minutes ago so he should be home soon. Ginny and Eugenie are in the showers. They did some drills this afternoon."

Thirty minutes later, the five of them were sitting down at a muggle pub as Hermione had demanded a place where no one would recognize them.

"Now will you tell me about this mystery man," Ginny whined. "Did you go on many dates? Did you wear those dresses I made you buy?"

"I'm not dating him," Hermione replied with certainty. "Ever. It's Draco Malfoy."

"WHAT?!" Harry and Ron roared.

"Calm down. It's okay. He was okay. Ugh. Too okay. Look, he apologized for everything he did at Hogwarts and was way too deferential and he pulled his weight for the project. He has actually been studying at a muggle university for the last three and a half years and is surprisingly completely at home in muggle Paris. Draco even has a credit card!"

"Draco?" Ron asked.

Hermione downed her beer and ordered another one. "As I said, he was being overly deferential. He kept calling me 'Miss Granger' and when I asked him why he kept calling me 'Miss Granger' he said it was because it showed respect and honor that using only my last name wouldn't. So, I told him to call me Hermione and he said I could call him Draco, but that I didn't have to. So I am, since we're lab partners and I'm trying to maintain a colleague-like relationship. It's hard to believe, but he's actually pretty decent now."

Eugenie looked around the table. "So I take it none of you like this Draco Malfoy."

"Well, I don't know," said Ginny. "Does he still have that nice seeker build?"

Hermione threw a napkin at her.

There was a bouquet waiting at the door when they got home from dinner. Eugenie picked it up. "Ooo! Dark pink roses for thankfulness. Angelica for inspiration. And statice for success. Looks like these are for you," she said turning to Hermione.

"Oh. They mean something? He sent flowers when I first got there too." She brought up a picture taken with her computer. "Do you know what these are?"

"The purple hyacinth means I'm sorry. The heather is admiration, and look! Banksia! Oh, he must have gotten these from La Fleur Exotique et Formidable. It's a high-end wizard florist. Banksia is an Australian wildflower symbolizing new beginnings."

"Leave it to Malfoy to pick out flowers that mean something," Harry muttered. Ron shared a look with Ginny realizing with growing horror that he needed to be picking out flowers for Eugenie with certain meanings behind them. A dozen roses just weren't going to cut it. Ginny smirked at him.

Draco and Hermione finished up their muggle drug preparation over the Lent term and she flued back to Paris during the break, this time staying in a guest room at Draco's large apartment, where the potions lab they were using was located.

They sat down to curry after their final task on the equinox. "So, I know you don't like quidditch, but Holyhead is playing Paris on Saturday and I wondered if you wanted to go, you know, to see Miss Weasley play."

She still couldn't get over his calling her friends Mr. or Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter. "Actually, Draco, I would like to go. You know, Ron's girlfriend plays beater for Holyhead. How many tickets do you have?"

Draco sighed. He knew when he had been out-maneuvered. "I have a box reserved this season that seats twelve. You are more than welcome to invite ten friends."

Hermione smirked.

Saturday morning, Ron, Harry, Luna, Neville and Hannah flued into Draco's flat. Draco greeted them. "I'm glad you could make it Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Abbott and Miss …" He stopped dead when he got to Luna.

"Lovegood," Luna offered. "But you should call me Luna. After all those meals we shared in your dungeon, we should probably be on a first name basis."

The color had fled from Draco's face. "Um, yes, Miss Lovegood. Luna. Please call me Draco. And I am truly sorry about the conditions under which we shared those meals."

"Yes, it was rather musty and dark down there. Thank you for heating them though. The hot tea we shared was rather nice. None of the Death Eaters heated anything up, so we only had tea that one week you were home for Easter."

Draco turned to face the group at large. "Um, well, the portkey leaves in thirty minutes. There's refreshments in the breakfast room. Bathrooms are down the hallway if you would like to freshen up. I have a bit of business to see to, so I'll meet you in twenty-five." Draco ran off as fast as he could without it seeming as if he were running away.

"Uh, Luna, Malfoy was a Death Eater too, you know," Ron mentioned.

"Not a real one. He was really a prisoner as much as I was. Better sleep accommodations though."

"Um, right. Well, how about breakfast?"

Over croissants, Hermione again requested that they be at least cordial to Draco as after all, this was his box and he was trying hard to make amends. Thirty minutes later, they portkeyed directly into the stadium.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N - I have misspelled Floo throughout the entire story. Sorry about that.

* * *

Surprisingly, the quidditch box was drama-free as Draco tried his best to keep to a corner and melt into the background. Eugenie was a smashing hit as beater, literally, and ensured that one bludger was on the opponent's seeker almost all the time. Ginny was a terror at chaser and the Harpies easily won the game, which lasted almost 4 hours as the sky had a low ceiling and the snitch was often lost in the clouds.

The Easter Term flew by and soon it was time for Hermione to make her way back to Paris to finish preparing for the finished potion. Over the six months, she and Draco had come to a fairly close friendship and it was quite uncanny how significantly their research advanced from their combined knowledge and thought processes. Draco actually had several potion projects he had been working on, and Hermione inquired about them until he finally gave up and let her work on them with him. After all, his name would still be on the potion somewhere, and maybe it would sell better if her name were listed with his.

The evening before the solstice came around and Hermione and Draco finished their final preparations. The next day they would add their final ingredients at sunrise, noon and sunset and then the potions would be finished. Over dinner, they discussed just how they would test their potion.

"I know we have the rats, and we should definitely make sure that the potion doesn't harm them and seems to work, but it really would be best if it were tested with a human subject."

"Draco, I know," Hermione replied, taking a bite of her salmon, "but you can't just test a potion on someone without their permission."

"Well, what about Lockhart? We can test the the most promising one on him, and if it doesn't work, then we can start testing the others."

"You can't just test potions on Lockhart."

"Well, he's the one that put himself in that position."

"We're not testing it on Lockhart."

"Okay, okay." Draco chewed a bite of his bread while thinking it over. "I suppose it has to be me then. It certainly can't be you. You'll need to cast the curse you used on your parents on me at some unsuspecting time, wait a while to make sure that it took, and then I'll try the potions."

"Draco, I'm not taking your memories away either."

"Yes you are. Look, you're way more important than I am. Former Death Eater, you know. No one is going to care if I lose some of my memories. You, however. I don't think I'd survive your friends if I so much as thought about removing some of yours."

"I'm not taking your memories, Draco."

"Yes you are. I'll Imperio you and you'll have to. Honestly, do you really think that after you take my memories away, you're going to have me locked away for using an Unforgivable."

She waved her fork at him. "You are not using an Unforgivable on me, Draco Malfoy."

"Then it's settled." He raised his glass. "A toast then. To a successful test of our project." He drained his glass.

Hermione huffed. "I didn't say that I'd erase your memories either."

"Look, we need a test. You don't even have to remove many of my memories. Just enough so that we can tell if I can't remember after the removal, and if I can remember after the potion. Besides, I don't exactly have a lot of happy memories, you know. I doubt I'll even miss whatever it is you take. So, sometime after the potions are all ready, you'll need to remove some memories and then we'll test the potion after a day or two."

Hermione eventually acquiesced and went to bed trying to come up with a way to remove memories so that Draco would have a happy life if he were to not get them back.

The Solstice came and the two of them worked tirelessly with all their batches the entire day. Sunset came and went and Draco went to find a bottle of champagne so they could toast their hard work and celebrate a bit. Hermione quietly followed him thinking this was as good of time as ever.

As Draco perused the champagnes trying to find the vintage he wanted, Hermione removed all memory of his father, of war, of Death Eaters, of Voldemort. After thinking half the previous night, she decided that if only Voldemort had never been in his life, he could have been happy. If his father hadn't brought Voldemort into his home, he could have been happy. If he hadn't been forced into becoming a Death Eater, he could have been happy. She wanted Draco to be happy. As brilliant as he was, he could have been head boy if it were a different age. They could have grown up as friends and had light-hearted competitions in school. They could have studied together like they had that last year. As she returned to the parlor, she silently prayed that their work would come to fruition.

Draco returned with his selection, two champagne flutes, and a smile on his face. Merlin, he looked so happy. She had never seen him so happy before.

"I've found the perfect vintage, a 1993 Grande Dame. We deserve the best for tonight!" He poured two glasses and handed one to Hermione. "To our partnership and our successful project."

Hermione couldn't help but smile back. The change in Draco was simply astounding. He was happy and carefree and the facade that he kept up all the time was simply gone. This was the real Draco she was seeing. This was the Draco that didn't have to please his father. That didn't have to keep up the Malfoy dynasty.

He set his glass to the side and picked up her hand. "I want to take you out tomorrow. We deserve a day of fun after all the work we put in."

She smiled back at him. "And what are we going to do?"

"It's a surprise. Tell me you'll join me for a day of fun."

His grin was breathtaking. Gone was the reserved expression and the only thing left was his hopefulness. "Sure. I want a day of fun. How should I dress?"

"Muggle clothes. For outside. We'll be outside most of the day."

Hermione set down her empty flute. "Well then, Draco, I'll meet you back here for breakfast in the morning, to be followed by a day of fun. I'm off to bed."

Draco walked her to room. "Good night, Hermione," he whispered and softly kissed her cheek.


	9. Chapter 9

The tea and fresh scones made for a fantastic breakfast the next morning. But what really stuck out was how joyously Draco dragged her to the RER train station. Even when they alighted at Marne-la-Vallee/Chessy, she had no idea what was in store, but a thrill went through her chest when he grabbed her hand as they alighted and walked through the station. Her jaw dropped, stunned, when they arrived to the gates of Disneyland.

He turned and faced into her. "The most magical place on Earth, right?" She couldn't help but to burst out laughing.

"You are absolutely incorrigible," she yelled as he pulled her to the ticket kiosk, never letting go of her hand.

They rode rides and watched shows and shared an ice cream while waiting for the parade. Draco made her wait with him in line to have a picture taken with Mickey. They laughed at the Phantom Manor and the silly representations of ghosts, although Draco was a bit perplexed at the holograms. They sat by the castle that night and as the fireworks lit the sky, Draco leaned in and kissed her.

"I know we're focused on the potion right now, but when we're done, I'd be honored if you would allow me to court you." He put a hand to her lips. "You don't have to answer now. Actually, when you remove my memories so we can test the potion, you can remove this one if you would like to pretend it never happened. But you are the most brilliant, most interesting and most beautiful witch to have ever graced this Earth and I would be honored to seek for your hand."

"Um, Draco." Hermione was now scrambling. If the potion restored his memories, then he certainly wouldn't want to date her. Her blood made her unacceptable to him and his family. He never would have said any of this if he still remembered. What was she going to do?

"Shhh," he consoled. "I know I should have waited a bit longer to say something, but I didn't want to. You don't have to answer now. Not even tomorrow. But with all the testing and work set for tomorrow, would you allow me to kiss you one more time tonight?"

She gave a small nod. The ensuing kiss was everything. It was all her hopes and dreams, all her fears and worries, all her desires and needs. It was home. He broke it off and smiled at her, eyes full of hope. Eyes that spoke of home for him too. "We should get going. We have a long day tomorrow." Hermione nodded as he again took her hand and led her back to the train, holding on as if for dear life.

The hot tea and scones were again set out the next morning as Hermione readied herself for the final day of testing. She was reading through her notes one last time when Draco joined her at the table. "Do you want to go over anything before you take my memories?"

"Um, Draco, about that," she started.

Draco considered her. "You took them yesterday. Hmmm. That makes sense. I was well distracted. You did a good job. I can't figure out when you did it. We need to go over what I do and don't remember though. We should document it for the report."

"Actually, Draco, I took them two nights ago. When you were picking out the wine."

He nodded thoughtfully, then smiled up at her. "Well, it certainly didn't affect my wine knowledge. That was a fantastic bottle we shared."

Hermione laughed. "No, it sure didn't. Okay, let's go through what you remember." She opened her laptop. "What can you tell me of your family growing up?"

"Well, it was mostly just me and my mom growing up. We have this manor house in Wiltshire, which was where I spent my childhood. My mother always made sure that I had everything I needed. I had tutors in maths, writing, and languages. For my birthday one year, she got me a broom, and I spent all summer racing over the copse."

"And your father?"

"When I was born, there was a wizard war in Britain. I think he died at that time."

"What about school?"

"Well, I went to Hogwarts with you, of course. Although I let those house rivalries get the best of me and teased your mercilessly. Sorry about that, by the way. Your hair really is fantastic, and even though I teased you about it, it was only because I wanted to run my fingers through it every time I got near you." He grinned bashfully.

"Anything of note those last two years of school?"

"No. Is there something in particular I should try to remember?"

"Do you remember why you didn't play quidditch?"

He thought. "I think I was just really busy with school work."

"And seventh year?"

He thought some more. "Actually, I can't remember you being at school seventh year. That's what you took, right? You took all my memories of you during our seventh year."

"Um, no. I wasn't at school our seventh year."

"Oh. Well, ..." Draco thought. "Snape was our headmaster. I guess that Dumbledore died sometime over the summer. He was quite old."

Hermione sighed. "Well, I can say that you definitely do not recall the memories that I took."

Draco grinned. "That's good. Now we can try the potions and I'll see what I can remember of those last two years." He grabbed the most likely one and downed it.

"It doesn't taste too foul. Kind of like chalk and lavender. Hmmm. Oh! My father's still alive. Oh." The smile dropped off completely. He grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it up with alarm. When he saw the faded dark mark, a look of horror appeared where his smile had been a moment earlier.

"I'm a monster," he whispered. "I'm a -" He suddenly faced Hermione, a look of sheer terror on his face. "My aunt." He looked at her exposed arm for confirmation. "And I did nothing. Nothing at all! I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry." Tears were streaming down his face as he shot up from the table, his chair clattering to the floor. She watched, stunned, as he fled down the corridor to his room, slamming his door shut.

A moment later, Hermione took off after him, yelling his name. She heard something shattering behind the door. "Draco," she yelled as she pounded on the door. "Draco, please -" but the door was silenced and she could no more hear him than he could her.


	10. Chapter 10

Needless to say, she slept outside his door that night. For the first hour, she paced wondering how she could help him. The second hour was spent recreating what had gone wrong. She was so focused on the outcome of the potion and the possibility of its failure that she had neglected to consider the effects of regaining your memory. Learning how to deal with horror one day at a time is manageable. Learning how to deal with a lifetime of horror in a matter of minutes, well, that she hadn't thought of. The third hour, she tried to unsilence the room and to unlock the door, but as this was his family's property, nothing responded to her. Even when she asked Draco's house elf Tilley if he would bring Draco some tea, he told her that "Young master is not wanting to be disturbed," and brought her tea instead.

Draco found her the next morning slumped outside his door. He asked Tilley to put her to bed, which was accomplished without her awakening. She woke in her bed surrounded by vase after vase of white tulips. She looked them up. Forgiveness. But hers or his? She pondered this question as she showered and dressed. How could he possibly forgive her for her careless selection of memories? How could her parents ever forgive her? Maybe this was all selfishness on her part. She had been so focused on her goals that she hadn't thought of them at all.

She dressed and went down to breakfast, although it was fast approaching noon. She noticed Draco at the writing desk as she passed the study.

"Draco."

"A moment, Miss Granger. I am about done typing up my final notes."

She took a seat on the leather sofa and waited for him to pause in his typing.

"I'm sorry. I was completely careless with the selection of your memories and it's unforgivable."

"No, Miss Granger. It was I who has done the unforgivable." He turned to look at her. "As I said when we first met to work on this potion, I am very much aware that I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"Draco, please -"

"You have done nothing for which there is a need to forgive."

"Do you remember two days ago? At Disney. You -"

"I took liberties that I never should have taken. And for those, I apologize."

"But, I want to see if there is a future together! I want -"

"Miss Granger," he interjected quietly. "I am a Death Eater. You should want nothing to do with me. No one should ever want anything to do with me." He turned to face the window. "I'll not return to Britain again."

"But, Draco -"

"I've finished typing up the results from our test trial and will send you the final version shortly. The potion is bottled and has been readied for transport."

"Will you not talk to me like we're friends?" she challenged, her voice raising in volume. "Do you no longer want a personal relationship?"

"I will do whatever you want that is in your best interest. That, however, is not in your best interest."

"Is it because I'm a Mudblood?!"

"Your blood is more brilliantly crimson than mine. I've seen it," he spat. "Remember?"

At that word, they were both stunned to silence. Remember. Souviens-toi. Memory. Je me souviens.

After an eternity, she got up and walked across the room to where he was seated and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"I remember, Draco. I remember my faults and your faults. I remember things I shouldn't have done and did anyway. And things I did that I never should have. Mistakes I've made. And that you've made. And what I remember most? I remember that for one glorious summer day, I had the best time of my life with someone whom I respect more than anyone else. And I had hope. For once, I had hope. Hope for my happiness. And for yours. A hope that all our work wouldn't just accomplish what we set out to do, but would include the possibility of a future."

She kissed his cheek and he felt her tears run down his face. He didn't know who had taken whose hand, but he brought hers to his mouth and trailed kisses across her knuckles.

"I'm sorry," he breathed across her fingers.

"I know. I'm sorry too. The memories you regained all within a matter of minutes was no less torture than what I experienced."

"I can't unsee it. I can't unsee her carving your arm and you screaming and me doing nothing," he spoke, anguish in his voice.

"You couldn't unsee it before either." She kissed his brow. "But, together, maybe we can both see it a little less."

He picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He held her gently while she held on tightly, afraid that her hopes might again flee. The afternoon passed in quiet discussion and comfortable silence, soft caresses and feather kisses. Tilley brought tea and sandwiches. And that evening when Draco carried Hermione to bed, she asked him to stay.

He did.


	11. Chapter 11

A Thursday evening in late July found Draco and Hermione waiting for an international portkey to Australia. They had taken a week to start figuring out their new relationship and to heal the hurt that Draco's regained memories had caused. They postulated that the pain of all the years of hurt might almost break a person again. Hermione conceded that they could try it on Lockhart.

Hermione couldn't stop laughing at Lockhart's reaction to having regained his memories, despite its impropriety. "Serves him right to be so aghast at having taken other people's memories," she would tell Draco, and then grouse that she couldn't tell anyone else due to patient confidentiality.

She had consulted with Neville about which of his parents they should try first, settling on his mother. This time, they had a calming draft ready, but Hermione was adamant that they wait until absolutely necessary as they didn't know whether there may be any contraindications. Neville, the healer and the nurse in charge of the ward were all there when his mother was administered the potion, while Hermione and Draco watched from a one-way window outside. It was horrible to see her thrashing and screaming as she regained all the memories of the Lestranges' torture.

"Mom! Mom, it's me! It's Neville!" Neville told her over and over while she screamed and shook. A minute later, she looked at him. "My Neville?"

"Yeah, it's me. It's Neville."

She hugged him so tightly he couldn't move. "I never thought I'd see you again. I never thought I'd hold you again. My son," she cried, tears running down her cheeks. "My son."

A week later, she and Lockhart were still in good health, so the potion was administered to Neville's father with similar results. Regaining memories of torture was akin to reliving it, but after realizing that Alice and Neville were there, he found his bearings. Neville took a sabbatical from his job as an Auror to settle into life with his family. He never did retake that job.

Now, Hermione was sitting nervously as they waited for their portkey. The regaining of memories was living the trauma anew. She was the one that took her parents' memories. She was essentially the one who caused them the pain of loss in the first place. What if they blamed her and never wanted anything to do with her again?

Draco caressed her palm. "Shhh. I can hear your thoughts from here. It'll work out. Let me talk to them and let them decide if they want the potion. I'm a neutral third party, so it would be just like discussing something with a healer. They won't be mad at you."

Hermione shook her head. "You can't know that," she worried.

Their portkey left a minute later and they checked into their hotel.

They found the Drs. Wilkins' address in the phone book and by luck, there was a cafe a block away. Draco and Hermione waited in the cafe until after an hour after the dental practice closed for the weekend, and then Draco walked down the street to the Wilkins' home while Hermione tried unsuccessfully to read a magazine while she waited.

Draco knocked on the door and Monica opened it.

"Hello, I'm Draco Malfoy. I know you don't know me, but I knew a member of your extended family in Britain and wanted to stop by as I was in the area. May I come in?"

"Um, Wendell! Come meet Draco Malfoy. He says he knows a family member."

Wendell walked into the room. "Hi. I'm Wendell. Why don't you come into the parlor? Can I pour you a drink?"

"Please. Thank you for all your hospitality. I know my visit is completely unexpected, but I had some news about a family member that you may or may not want to know. Do you remember the terrorist attacks going on back in 1996?"

Wendell handed him a glass of whiskey. "Sure. It's hard to forget, what with all the destruction they wreaked on the city."

"It was all caused by a terror organization call the Death Eaters. I was sixteen at the time, but my father was a member of the Death Eaters, and when he was imprisoned, the leader branded me. I wasn't given a choice. He would have killed my mother."

Wendell jumped up. "Do you mean to tell me you killed innocent people?!"

"No, no! I didn't kill anyone. I just meant to say that I knew the leaders. They lived in my home. I knew what they wanted to destroy, who they wanted to kill."

Wendell sat down slowly, much closer to Monica and eyed Draco. "Okay, so I assume this has something to do with our family."

"Yeah. You see, the Dark Lord, um, the Leader had an enemy who was trying to defeat him. As you can see, this person did defeat the Leader as there hasn't been any more attacks in the last four years."

"Okay, go on."

"The person who defeated the Leader is a man my age named Harry Potter. Your family member was really close to him. Um, now I know this sounds strange, but do you believe in magic?"

Monica spoke up. "I believe in miracles. Not magic."

"What if I told you that there is magic and that everyone in the terror organization as well as everyone fighting against it could do magic?"

"Like spells and potions and whatnot?" Monica supplied skeptically.

"Yeah. Just like that. Could I show you?"

Wendell looked at her. "Sure. Go on. Why don't you have the decanter refill our drinks?"

Draco pulled out his wand and the drinks were refilled. "I can also change the cushion into a table or clean the windows." He demonstrated.

The Wilkins eyed him with wariness. "Okay, let's say there is magic. So what's your point."

"The terrorist leader wanted to kill you because your family member was so close to the opposing side. He thought that if he could torture you or kill you, then she would be easier to catch. That he could win faster, easier. She erased herself from your memories and made it possible for you to move here so that no one could find you. So that you would stay safe."

"And now we get to the part where you say you found our 'long lost daughter' and if we pay you an exorbitant amount of money, you'll return her to us?"

"Well," Draco started, a bit confused. "It's more that she found you, and why would you pay me anything?"

"Dear," Monica interjected, "at my last physical, the doctor asked how many children I had, and when I said I didn't have any, she asked when I had last given birth. She seemed to think that I had a child at some point." Monica turned to Draco. "So, if we have a daughter, where is she?"

"She's at the cafe down the street. We've spent the last four years researching memory restorative potions that counteract the type of memory blocks that she used to protect you.

"So, you have two options. First, you can tell me that you never want to see me or her again, and we'll leave. Second, you can meet her and then decide whether you want your memories restored or not. If you decide you do, then after they are restored, you can again decide whether you want to keep them, or if you would rather forget them again and continue the life you currently have.

"I will note that we tried the procedure out on me, and it was extremely disconcerting to regain my memories. It was rather like reliving everything within a few minutes. I really don't know if there was anything bad that happened that you no longer remember, but if there was, it will feel like every bad thing is happening all over again. It was pretty hard to overcome all at once."

"Wendell, I want to meet her."

"I want some proof before I'm trying anything." He turned to Draco. "Tell her that we'd like to have you both for dinner in one hour."

"Thank you, sir, madam. I appreciate that this is a lot to take in and am very relieved that you're willing to at least meet her. Her name is Hermione Granger."

"Hermione, Wendell! Like in 'A Winter's Tale!'"

One hour later, Hermione and Draco were knocking at the door. Wendell opened the door and his jaw dropped. "Monica, she looks just like you," he called and pulled her into a hug, his need for proof apparently fulfilled.

Her mother rushed over to greet her. "Well, it's not every day you get to meet your daughter." She hugged the two of them and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Hermione stammered. "I needed you to be safe. I was so scared for you."

"Yes, Draco conveyed that we were to be killed. I'll take your potion. Monica, wait to make sure there's no ill effects before you try it." Wendell held out his hand and Draco handed him a small vial. He swallowed it and several moments later he turned to look at Hermione.

"I don't know how you did it. How you were able to even change my name. Jean," he called. "Yeah! Jean is your real name. I'm Robert." He smiled down at her. "It seems safe. Getting all your memory back is a bit disorienting, so I recommend that you sit down first."

Jean sat down and took her potion. "Robert! Robert, it's us! And our wonderful, wonderful daughter!" She pulled Hermione into a hug and the Grangers laughed and cried and kissed. Draco quietly left and went back to the hotel.

Hermione returned the next morning and brought him back to spend the weekend with her parents. After all, Hermione wanted her parents to get to know Draco for personal reasons.


	12. Epilogue

Jean sat on her sofa next to little Capella who was already reading a story to her grandmother, even though she was not quite three. Cinderella was Capella's favorite story, and now that she had to compete for time with her little brother Leo, she learned to read so that she could hear the story as often as she wanted. Jean, of course, was just charmed and she related to Draco how Hermione learned to read when she was two because she was left with a pile of books whenever her parents brought her to the dental practice for weekend bookkeeping.

Leo, who had just turned one, crawled into the parlor with a huge grin on his face, as chase with his dad was his favorite game. "Papa, look! Cinderella just got her glass slippers so she can go to the ball!"

"But, Capella, if she's in glass slippers, then she won't be able to dance." Leo giggled as Draco scooped him up.

"Of course she can dance, Papa. She has magic glass slippers."

"Oh! I didn't realize they were magic glass slippers."

Capella turned back to her grandmother. "And now she has a carriage and horses so she can go to the ball and meet her prince."

Hermione walked in from the kitchen. "Alright, everyone needs to set everything down. Grandpa has a special surprise."

"Is it the surprise birthday cake for Grandma?" Capella exclaimed.

"Um, darling, I don't think it's much of a surprise now," Draco whispered in her ear.

Capella turned back to her grandmother. "I meant to say, I wonder what Grandpa has."

Jean tried hard to keep from laughing, but kissed the top of her head and replied, "I wonder what he has too. Why don't we ask him to come in?"

"Grandpa, you can come in now with the surprise!"

To exactly no one's surprise, he brought in a birthday cake for Jean. Leo clapped as he had recently learned what a cake was. Everyone sang Happy Birthday and Jean blew out the candle with help from Capella. "What did you wish for?" asked Robert. "What do you think?" Jean winked back as she pulled Capella closer.

Draco laughed. "Well, you'll have to open the box. Hermione, hand her the gift."

Jean undid the wrapping and found a photo album full of pictures of the two grandchildren. She gasped when she got to the last picture. "Is it a third?" She waved a picture of an ultrasound at Robert.

"Look closer," suggested Hermione, grinning at her husband.

Jean shrieked with delight! "Look, Robert! Two more grandchildren!" She ran over and pulled Hermione into a hug. Capella ran over and hugged her grandmother's leg. Leo tried to run over, tripped and started to crawl the rest of the way when he was snatched up by Robert who then joined the group hug.

Draco got the picture framed. It sits in his potions lab and every time he walks in, he smiles and remembers.


End file.
